


Parallel Lines

by Sonicmeriver (Lakela)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, Post-Replicator Invasion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 01:06:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1838782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lakela/pseuds/Sonicmeriver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>RepliCarter, or as she goes by these days, Samantha, pays a visit to Sam Carter. Jack has been dead for months. Or has he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS (highlight to view): angst, implied Jack / RepliCarter, voices possibly ooc, ridiculously unlikely happy ending.

You wake up to your own face staring down at you. Your arms pinned by your side. She, the one with your face, is so much stronger. You struggle only for a bit, you’re smart enough to know that the effort is futile. You know to keep your strength for now, there may be opportunity later.

There isn’t.

She smiles down at you and drags you out of bed in one swift movement. Your arms behind you, your face against the wall. You see her face again, so impossibly equal to yours.

“Hello Sam,” she whispers in your ear. “Missed me?”

*

This room is dark. It’s not the bright room she usually takes you to. Or perhaps it is. You can feel the replicator blocks beneath your finger tips and immediately take your hand away from the wall. You know all too well what comes next.

There’s a faint ray of light when she walks in, but not enough to show her face. You’re strangely thankful for that. You don’t want to see it. Your face.

Her steps get closer, you can hear her breathing, you know what’s coming before it happens.

The blinding pain.

The headache.

The light.

How to tell the two apart.

“Welcome,” she says with a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“What the hell do you want?” Your patience is at an all-time low these days. “Why do you keep doing this?”

“I need your help,” she says, still smiling.

At another time you might have answered with “You’re kidding, right?” but you settle for a sigh and wait for her to continue.

“I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, you and I…”

“You think?”

“However, this time, I think you’ll want to cooperate.”

“Look,” you say, tired of the game. “You’ve been inside my mind more times than I can count. Hell, you’ve GOT my mind for crying out loud. Why do you keep bringing me here? What are you looking for?”

“Carter?” you recognize his voice immediately and turn around with a gasp.

“Sir.”

He’s looking at you, at both of you, trying to figure out which is which.

“What the hell is this?” you shout angrily at her. “How are you doing this?”

You know she can play tricks with your mind, create any fantasy she wants to, but not here. At least not until now. Only those who are alive and somehow connected to the replicator network are able to connect to the subspace. How is she doing this?

“I’m not doing anything,” she smiles again. “I thought you might like to see each other. It’s been a while, I believe.”

You stare at him silently for a long time. He looks so… alive. But he was dead, you saw her kill him right in front of you the day of the Invasion.

“Is it really you?” your voice sounds broken and you realize tears are rolling down your cheeks. You didn’t know you had any left.

“Sam,” he says, his eyes too are filled with tears. He takes a step towards you and you rush to take a step towards him, even though you know you can’t actually touch here.

“Where are you?” you whisper.

“I don’t know.”

“Now, now, all in good time,” she interrupts. You make the mistake to look at her and when you turn around again he’s gone.

“What the hell was that?” you demand.

“I told you you’d be interested,” she says triumphantly.

The blinding pain again and sudden blackout. You’re in the dark room again.

“I’ll be back,” she threatens.

*

“Jack’s alive,” you say.  It’s almost an accusation.

“Yes.” She studies carefully all your reactions. You’re in the familiar room again. The one with the bright light and the infinite replicator blocks.

“How?”

“I never killed him.”

“But I saw you.”

“I may have stabbed him a little bit.”

You bite your tongue and the urge to punch her. You need to know. “Why?”

“I knew this day might come.”

“This day?”

“The day when I would need your help. Why do you think I kept YOU alive? It wasn’t just for the pretty face.” She smiles at her own joke.

“Whatever you may want, I’m not going to help you.”

“I know you will. You forget, I’ve got your mind.”

You stay silent for a moment. You know she’s right. You hate the fact that she knows everything about you, can anticipate your every move, and yet you could never quite figure her out. “What do you want?”

*

It’s been… long. You stopped counting the days after 243 and that feels like ages ago. And now he’s here, flesh and blood, and alive.

You approach him tentatively. “Sir?”

“I swear Carter, if you call me sir again…”

“I’m sorry,” you smile. “It’s just… so… surreal.”

“Tell me about it. I’ve been locked up in here for months, I thought I was the only non-replicator left in the Universe.”

You take one step closer and he opens his arms to you. You bury your face into his chest. It’s him. His smell, his arms around you. It’s strange, you hadn’t been able to cry for months and ever since you saw him you haven’t been able to stop. Eventually, you take a step back to look at him.

“You aren’t, sir.”

“Carter.”

“Jack. Sorry. You’re not the only one left. Earth is still there. For the most part. So are most of the other galaxies.”

He looks confused.

“The Invasion was implacable but not deadly. Human-form replicators took all the major positions of power.”

“They enslaved us?”

“Not exactly. Some things _have_ changed. Technology is evolving at a much faster rate than it ever was, but everything else remains more or less… the same.”

“That was nice of them.”

“She…” You’ve never been able to call her by a name, certainly not the one she goes by. “She knew that if she eradicated all life on the galaxy, there would be no new technology, nothing to rule over.”

“Not too primitive after all?”

“We have potential, it seems.”

“I always thought so,” he quips. You smile briefly but he tumbles forward, as if disoriented, before catching his foot again.

“Are you ok?” you rush towards his side, not sure what to do.

“I’m fine. It’s just a bit of a migraine.”

“A migraine?”

“I’m fine, Carter,” he insists, dismissing your worries. “So everyone is…?”

“Alive, yes.”

“Teal’c, Daniel?”

You nod. “Yes, sir. Jack. Sorry. The Stargate program was of course dismantled and the Stargate is in their hands, but they all survived.” You pause, “Although I haven’t seen any of them in a long time. Teal’c went back to Chulak.”

“Chulak?”

“The Jaffa now serve the replicators. All the Goa’uld system lords were killed.”

“Well, there’s that.”

 He looks as tired as you feel and his eyes keep darting away, never quite settling on you.

“I thought we’d lost you, Jack,” you confess. The renewed realization that he’s back clogging your throat and welling your eyes all over.

“Nonsense, where would I go?”

His lips curl briefly into what might be a smile but it's so brief you can hardly tell.

“I just don't understand. Why did she take you? Why did she keep you away from us all this time?”

“I think Samantha’s trying to understand.”You swallow. That’s what he calls her?

“Understand?”

“Emotion. The things she feels.”

“She doesn’t feel anything, Jack. Fifth made sure of that.”

“He tried. She’s not like the others; her original emotions were modeled after yours.”

“I would never…” The protest dies in your throat. The truth is, you have never been sure of what you would have done in her place. “At least I don’t think…”

“I know, Carter.”

“Is that why she keeps taking me?”

“What?”

“Ever since the Invasion, she’s been taking me from Earth every few months. She goes into my mind and then drops me back. But she _has_ my mind. I don’t know what she’s looking for.”

“I think she’s trying to make sense of what she feels. How human emotions work.”

“Then why did she keep you?” Suddenly, a horrible thought invades you: she has your emotions. All of them. Including… “Did she…” His lips thin but he doesn’t reply. Something isn’t right. “Did you…? Are you?”

He reads the question in your eyes as well as you can read the answer in his.

“Oh my God,” you say. He reaches towards you tentatively and you take a step back from him. “With _her?”_

“She isn't... wasn't... she is not what you think.”

“Oh my God.”

“You have every right to hate her and hey, I was first in line on the hating party, but things changed somewhere along the way... she's trying to come to terms with what she is and what she has been through.”

“She’s been lying to you for months and you are still defending her?!”

“I’m not defending her, Carter!! I’m just trying to explain…”

“Please don’t.” You feel like shouting but the words hardly leave your mouth, “Then what the hell does she need _me_ for? She’s got you. And willing, apparently.”

He buries his face in his palms. “I didn’t know you were alive,” he whispers.

“How does that make any of it better, _sir_?” You spit the word at him.

“It doesn’t.”

*

 


	2. Chapter 2

When Daniel shows up in your bedroom you aren’t even surprised, despite the fact that you haven’t seen him in months or that he doesn’t have the keys to your house anymore.

General Hart has been calling every day since you resigned to convince you to go back, even though it has been over four weeks since you told him you were quitting. Michael, Joanne and the guys from the resistance have also been trying to persuade you to go back to the military. “Your access and firsthand information is invaluable to us,” they said. Invaluable to what? The resistance has been a façade all along. As soon as people started to realize the Invasion had benefits that to most, long surpassed the little inconvenience of seeing metal spiders crawling around the streets, the resistance lost most of its support. Even Michael and Joanne are starting to use replicator technology; who is going to take them seriously anymore?

So the fact that one of them somehow managed to contact Daniel to try to pull you out of your hole isn’t all that surprising.

“Hello,” you say glancing vaguely in his direction. You may want to be left alone, but no one will ever accuse you of being rude.

“Hello Sam,” he says softly.

“I’m not going back to work,” you state just as calmly, “so you can show yourself out.” Ok, maybe a little rude.

“We haven’t seen each other in 8 months and that’s all you have to say?”

You look up at him, he looks well. You tell him as much, “You look well.”

“Thank you. I can’t say the same for you.”

You feel the urge to answer back but then he smiles at you and the answer dies in your throat. Unwillingly, your lips curve up slightly. “Yeah well,” you say finally. “It’s not like anyone has to see me, is it? The sooner you leave, the less you’ll be exposed.”

“I haven’t come here to fight, Sam. Nor to convince you of anything.”

“Why are you here?”

He gestures towards the bed and you reluctantly make room for him to sit next to you.

“I missed you,” he says. You snort.

“So the fact that Jack is back and I quit my job has nothing to do with your visit.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“I am not going back and I don’t want to see him,” you announce clearly. He nods and doesn’t say anything for a long time.

“Do you at least have something to eat?” he asks finally, frowning a little. “I just drove all the way here from Seattle and I haven’t had anything to eat in hours. I’m starving.” You shrug. “Right, I’ll help myself then, shall I?”

Just as well, at least that’ll keep him out of your hair for a while. You really don’t know if there is anything to eat; you aren’t even sure when was the last time you had something to eat.

*

Daniel is fucking everywhere.

He is in your kitchen offering you cooked meals; he is in your bedroom checking to see if you are asleep, even though he knows you are not but forcing you to pretend that you are or be punished with another of his terribly boring stories from Seattle; he is waiting outside when you come out of the bathroom with his worried eyes and his bashful smile; he is asleep in your couch when you need to scream. He. is fucking. everywhere.

And tonight is one night too many.

“You need to go,” you announce pulling the blanket from over him, revealing his body curled up in fetal position on the couch.

He makes an incomprehensible sound that you interpret as “What?” and you repeat the order, “You need to go, today. Now. Right now. I cannot stand another minute of you here.”

He blinks and tries to focus on you. His new replicator-glasses lying on the coffee table next to the couch.

“You want me to leave,” he says finally.

“Yes. Now.”

“Why?” he puts his glasses back on slowly. Painfully slowly. You need this to go much faster.

“Because,” you insist, searching for his stuff and trying to gather it all up in a pile.

“Calm down, Sam,” he says, stilling your hands. “Can we talk about this?”

“We’ve talked enough, Daniel, you’ve been here for weeks.”

“I’ve been here for 10 days,” he says, still calm.

“Well, it felt like weeks and now I would like you to go. This is still my house, isn’t it? Or have I lost that, too?” Your voice breaks with the last word, and you curse yourself for it. You’ll be damned if he’s going to see you cry.

“No, Sam.” He forces you to look at him, “this is still your house. And I am still your friend. I am your friend,” he repeats.

He grabs your arm and you pull away.

“Don’t Daniel.”

“I’m not going to let you do that to yourself. Do you hear me? I am your friend and I love you.” Is he crying? You turn around to look at him and that is a mistake because he grabs you again and pulls you into him. Into a strange awkward tense hug that you do not need or want.

You do not.

But you don’t pull away. He’s whispering in your ear and you don’t have the strength to fight him anymore. “I love you, Sam. I am not going anywhere,” he chants, “I am still your friend.”

You don’t know how long you stay like this but the next thing you know, you’re alone in your own bed and for the first time in ages, when you open your eyes the Sun is already streaming through the window. You’ve slept a whole night through.

*

“Tell me about him.”

Daniel is sitting in your kitchen, a warm mug of tea between his hands which he slowly leaves on the table before looking up at you.

“He’s still in the hospital,” he says finally. This comes as news to you and you will your heart to slow down.

“Still? I thought it was a routine check-up. How long has it…”

“2 months next week since you both got back.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

Daniel looks down, not willing to meet your eyes. Is it that bad? “The doctors don’t know,” he admits.

“What do you mean they don’t know?”

“His nervous system has been compromised in a way they’ve never seen before.”

“I don’t understand, how can they not know? They can even cure cancer now, for Christ’s sake.”

“She… They are trying.”

“She?” You know perfectly well who ‘she’ is. “You’re letting _her_ ,” you spit the word, “near him? After everything she did? She’s the one responsible for this!”

He nods. “She knows, that’s why she’s trying to fix it.”

“Daniel! She’s a liar! She’s lied to us all.”

“I know. But I also know that she’s the only one who _can_ help.”

“I can’t believe this… Why am I the only one who still cares?”

“Sam…”

“No, it’s true. Suddenly they’re everyone’s best buddy. Everyone’s using their shit, everybody suddenly trusts them. Trusts HER. Have you forgotten what they are? What she did?”

“No, I haven’t forgotten. But I do honestly believe she’s trying to help.”

“We don’t know what they want, what SHE wants. If she lets her little spiders loose this could all go to hell in the blink of an eye.”

“I know.”

“I mean ALL of it.”

“You think I don’t know all that?”

“And you don’t care?”

“Of course I care, Sam! But I don’t see that we have much of a choice!”

You look into his eyes, the desperation in them mirrors yours. “So, you’ve given up?” you ask quietly.

“No, I haven’t given up. I’m still part of the resistance…”

“The resistance!” you snort. “As if that means anything…”

“…but I want Jack to live and I think she can help.”

His words cut right through you. “You want him to… Is he…” The words feel heavy and you feel your eyes starting to burn, “Daniel, is he dying?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh my God. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried, Sam, you weren’t listening.”

“The hell I wasn’t listening! I listened to all your inane stories about Seattle. I listened to you telling me I should eat, or sleep, or drink, take care of myself. And you couldn’t fucking mention that Jack may be dying?!”

“I wasn’t sure you were ready.”

“How is anyone ever ready for this?”

He holds your gaze for a moment. “Sam, you can’t go.”

“WHAT?” You’re beyond furious.

“Don’t you understand? _She_ is there.”

 _She_ is there.

“Oh,” you say.

You do understand. You finally understand. He didn’t tell you because he doesn’t want you to drive her away. They’ve had to choose.

Jack needs her, now.

Not you.

They’ve chosen her.

“I’m so sorry, Sam.”

*

“Hey,” you whisper when his eyelids open, just enough.

“Sam?” he says, groggily.

“Yes,” you say, until you realize he may not mean you at all. Suddenly, you have a very strong urge to leave. This was a very bad idea.

“Carter,” he says, stopping you in your tracks. “You came.”

You search into his tired eyes. “You know who I am?”

He smiles, “Give a man some credit, Carter.”

“I thought maybe you thought…” he stops you, weakly placing one of his hands over yours.

“Never. I never…” he says, trying to make you understand. You nod. You don’t want him to explain. You don’t want to know.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, biting back the ‘sir’ in the last moment.

“Not bad, I’ve only passed out once today…”

“Jack.”

“I’m not being flippant, once is progress.”

“Daniel told me the doctors were at a loss. Do they know what’s wrong, yet?”

“They have an idea, yes.” You wait for him to continue and he raises an eyebrow. “You actually expect me to repeat what they said?” he asks incredulous. “This hasn’t made me any smarter, Carter, I’m sorry to disappoint.”

You smile, “Thank God for small favors. At least we can be sure it’s still you.”

“Magnets, I think. And something to do with being on a replicator ship for 8 months. Apparently, it ain’t good for you in case you were planning a holiday.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

“It’ll be ok, Carter, don’t look so worried. New treatment started only three days ago and I already feel the improvement.”

“So it’s treatable?”

“They’re very optimistic.”  

You nod. “I’m sorry I didn’t come earlier…” you begin, after a while.

“Carter,” he interrupts.

“I didn’t know...”

“You don’t have to…”

“No, let me say this,” you stop him. “Daniel didn’t tell me, he didn’t want me to… interfere. I just want you to know that I won’t. I only came to see how you were. I won’t interfere.” He smiles but doesn’t say anything. “Now I am done,” you clarify. “You can speak.”

“Oh, right,” he says smiling. But that’s all he says. He rubs his thumb over your hand, just the once, and the simple touch makes you shiver. He is looking at you, perhaps waiting for you to speak, or perhaps hoping you’ll understand what he’s saying without words.

You sit in silence next to each other for a long time. Now and then one of you breaks the silence to say things like “I’m glad you came” (him), he seems sincere, or “I missed you” (you), a huge understatement, or “Do you think you could bring some cake next time, the food here is terrible”, probably true…

It’s not until you notice that you are being watched that you realize you can’t stay here forever.

“Oh,” you say to acknowledge her presence and wonder how long she has been by the door, watching you both. 

“Hello,” she says, looking at you.

Jack shifts uncomfortable in his bed and you spring from your chair, coat and handbag already in hand. “I should be going,” you mumble, bypassing her out the door. “It was good to see you, Jack,” you say without turning back to look at him.

“Carter!” he shouts, but you don’t know what follows because you’re already out the door and sprinting towards the exit.

 Smooth, Carter, very smooth. You clearly have it all under control.

You are so rattled you don’t even notice the white hospital spider running in front of you until you nearly step on it.

*

You come back the next day, a slice of cheesecake you picked up on the corner shop in your hand. Cheesecake isn’t Jack’s favorite, but it’s the only one you could find this morning, so it’ll have to do.

You forget all about the cake when you get to his room and realize someone is already there.

She is leaning over him, placing some electrodes on his forehead. His eyes are closed. The way her hands move softly over his skin makes your stomach lurch.

Whatever made you think you could do this?

*

 


	3. Chapter 3

The world is changing at a vertiginous pace and you wonder if you are the only one who has been left behind. The first replicator / human weddings hit the news last week to much rejoicing, and this week the papers say human – replicator hybrids may be scientifically viable in the future.

It makes your stomach turn.

You know, rationally, that they are not all like her, that perhaps they are not all bad. Perhaps others see in them something you still haven’t been able to see. But in your mind, they all have her face.

Your face.

In your mind, they’re all capable of what she’s done.

On impulse, you go online and purchase black hair dye, which arrives an hour later through a delivery-spider. Your hair has grown to your shoulders in the past few months and you haven’t bothered to cut it. In fact, you welcome the growth; she still looks exactly like she did the first time you saw her.

The fringe however is starting to be a nuisance and you decide it needs a trim. A task that proves more difficult than expected when you discover that Daniel had decided to play hide and seek with all your pointy objects. You finally find them all stacked inside a secluded drawer.

You look at yourself in the mirror for the first time in months. The black hair makes you look thinner, older. Or perhaps it’s just because you’ve aged. You cut your fringe unceremoniously, not particularly caring for the end result as long as it stays out of your eyes.

Afterwards, you go to the hospital like you do every day. The nurse is already expecting you and you don’t even need to ask.

“Hasn’t passed out today either,” she informs smiling. “He’s trying to teach me to play chess, I’m afraid I’m hopeless at it. You look lovely, by the way. Dark suits you.”

“Thank you, I thought it was time for a change.”

She nods. “Are you sure you don’t want to see him?”

You decline like you always do, and thank her.  “Maybe tomorrow.”

She offers you a sad smile; she knows tomorrow will be no different.

*

It all happens so fast that you are hardly aware of what is happening at all.

The sound, coming from downstairs. Daniel, you think. But Daniel hasn’t been there for weeks.

The knife. Where did you get it from? Plunging into her stomach.

The blow to your head, the blood in your mouth, the cold blade against your neck.

“Now,” she says. “No more stabbing.”

You crack your eye open enough to see her morph the blade back into her arm, which she clearly does for your benefit.

You blink a couple of times, trying to adjust to the brightness and notice that you can’t move your hands, they are tied behind your back to the chair you are apparently sitting on.

“Oh, that. Yes, a little discouragement against trying to kill me,” she explains, when she sees you moving.

“I can’t kill you,” you state dryly.

“No, but that clearly doesn’t stop you from trying.”

You shrug. “Old habits.”

“You don’t like me,” she says, after a while, but it sounds more like an observation than an accusation.

“Is it keeping you awake?”

“I don’t sleep.” She waits for you to say something but you don’t, so she continues, “I understand. I wouldn’t like me, either. Although to be fair, if you had been in my place, you would have done the exact same thing.” This makes you raise an eyebrow. “Oh, I knew your curiosity would keep me alive long enough to decipher the Disrupter, but sooner or later, you would have killed me, we both know that. I had very little choice.”

You’re tired of the same old arguments. You’ve thought about this enough and you refuse to believe it. “I am not like you.”

She smiles. “Perhaps. It doesn’t really matter. I told you once I would need your help. Well, it’s time. He’s dying.”

She pauses to see if she has your attention. She does. “He said the treatment was working. And the nurse, she…”

“There is no treatment.”

“He lied?”

“No, he thinks he’s on a new treatment.”

“ _You_ lied.”

“Yes.”

Her honesty shocks you. “Why?”

“I thought he could use the hope... And I’ve managed to palliate the symptoms, but he’s still dying.” She gets closer to you and you instinctively try to move away, but the restrains stop you. She brings her hands slowly to yours and starts untying the rope. “There is a cure. But it isn’t one I can administer. In fact, I don’t even know where it is.”

“What cure?”

“He’s dying because his central nervous system has started behaving like that of a replicator’s. His presence aboard the replicator ship had a long term effect I should have foreseen.” You are unbound now, but you don’t move nor try to stand up. “To establish a connection with a human brain, the replicator-equivalent of neurotransmitters are released into the brain, which enable the interaction with the Kiron pathways. In the long term, those molecules, which are usually eliminated after the connection finishes, start to build up. The replicator-nature of these molecules, allowed them to deal with their own excess by modifying Jack’s DNA. Much like a tumor, a few of his brain cells started coding Exoton positive enzymes to process the replicator-neurotransmitters, but the rest of his system is not prepared to deal with the increased k-charge and is starting to collapse.”

“Can’t you stop the transcription of the enzymes?”

“No, the replicator-human nature of this new DNA makes it impossible. I can’t link to it and neither can regular human gene-therapy. Only a replicator Disrupter would deactivate the structure at a molecular level, without damaging the rest of the DNA.”

“The Disrupter Jack designed?”

“We are all immune to that one, Jack too.”

“Is there another one?”

“I have reason to believe so, yes.”

You consider her words. There is another Disrupter out there, a weapon the replicators aren’t immune to. “Why are you telling me this? Aren’t you afraid if I find it, I could also use it against you?”

“It has occurred to me. But I also think you’ll know to do the right thing when the time comes.”

“Ok,” you say after a moment. “Assuming you’re telling the truth… And don’t take it personally when I say I very much doubt it, what do you need me for?”

“From what I’ve been able to find out, this device is not like Jack’s. It cannot be directed towards a specific location, only a specific molecular structure.”

“Meaning if the device is programmed to disrupt replicator transmissions, it would also disintegrate any replicator in its radius. You included.”

“Precisely.”

“And out of everyone you could have asked, you decided to trust _me_?”

“With my life? Not a chance. To save Jack’s? Yes. Besides, there aren’t many non-replicators who could work the device. At least not many who would consider Jack’s life before doing anything… rash…”

Doing something ‘rash’ sounds exactly like something you might do these days, but you decide not to mention it. “You said you don’t know where the device is.”

“I think that information is somewhere in Daniel’s mind. With his permission, I think I could find it.”

You force a laugh. “Since when do you need someone’s permission to violate their mind?”

“Oh, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed I’m one of the goodies, now.”

“Of course. And if that information happened to give you access to immunization from the new device, it couldn’t hurt. Is that it?”

She smiles. “I do like you, you know. I’ve seen what he sees in you.” She takes a step towards you and you get up from the chair, knocking it down. The chair stops you from moving further back. “He never saw it in me.” She moves a little closer, enough that you can feel her breath on your neck as she whispers, “What have you got to lose?”

She steps back to look you in the eye and she knows you know she’s right. You have nothing else to lose.

“Fine, I’ll do it. Whatever it is you need me to do. But on one condition.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Saving Jack is not motivation enough?”

“Why did you take me?”

She studies you for a moment. “I wanted to know when it stopped. What you feel for him… But it doesn’t, does it? After all this time, even knowing what you know, you still…”

“When this is over,” you say stopping her, “I never want to see you again. You can do whatever you like, but never come back to me again.”

“That could be arranged.”

“I’ll talk to Daniel tomorrow. I know he’ll say yes.”

She smiles. “Good.”

*

Two soft knocks on the door, and then, nothing. It would be so easy to ignore them.

Any other day you probably would, but for some reason, this time you drag yourself out of bed and to the door.

The truth is nobody knocks like this, nowadays. In fact, nobody really knocks anymore. Everyone just seems to let themselves in and that is enough to peak your curiosity.

Your breath catches when you see him outside your door.

“Hello,” he says. His sheepish smile falters a little when he sees you but he doesn’t mention the bruises on your face from the previous night nor even the black hair. Instead, he widens his smile again resolutely and says, “Cake?” lifting the bag he is holding.

He looks worlds better than he did in the hospital, well-shaved and out of that hospital gown.

“What are you doing here?” Your tone sounds harsher than you intended and you realize your expression is equally stern. You try to soften your features, but can’t quite manage a smile. “Shouldn’t you be in the hospital?” you try again.

“There is no treatment,” he says by way of explanation.

“Yes, but still.”

“Got the passing out habit under control, Carter, I won’t faint on you.”

You nod, still unsure.

“Are you going to let me in?”

“Oh.” You open the door further and gesture him in. “Of course, come in. Can I offer you anything?” You add as an afterthought.

“Have any beer?”

You frown.

“C’mon, beer isn’t going to make me any sicker.”

You suppose he’s right, so you fetch him a beer and get one for yourself. You watch him as he settles on your couch (the one Daniel had okupied) and you sit on the edge of the armchair next to it.

“Hello,” Jack says, with an even brighter grin.

You feel the corners of your lips curve up slightly. “You already said that.”

“I was hoping for a start-over.”

“Hello yourself,” you say.

“You never brought any cake.”

“Come again?”

“Cake, I asked you for cake and you never brought me any.”

“Oh,” you had completely forgotten. “I’m sorry.”

“So I brought some for you,” he says, lifting up the paper bag again.

“You brought _me_ cake?”

“Yes,” he declares triumphantly. He sees you glance at the beer and quickly adds, “Not for now. For later. For whenever. It’s for you.”

“Right. Thank you, I guess.”

“I didn’t make it myself, in case you were worried.”

“I wasn’t,” you smile a little. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he says clearly pleased with himself, leaving the paper bag on the tea-table.

You don’t stand up to grab it. “And now the real reason?” you ask instead.

“Excuse me?”

“The real reason why you’re here, Jack.”

He closes his eyes for a brief second and then he looks at you. “You didn’t say anything,” he says finally.

“About what?”

 “When you came to the hospital. You never said anything. Why?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie, knowing he won’t believe you and still feeling the need to deny it.

“I saw you, Carter.” He’s not letting you off. “You came to the hospital every day. I kept hoping you’d come in to see me, play a game of tic, tac… even some toe. But you never did.”

“I just wanted to know how you were doing.”

“Then why…”

“I’m still not ok with all of this,” you say, before he goes any further. “I am never going to be ok with any of this, Jack. Not the way it happened… Replicators and humans, living as buddies. I can’t.”

“I know.”

“Everyone is fine with it, and maybe they’re right to be, but I just can’t. Especially not with her… But I do believe her when she says she wants to save you.”

He’s silent for a moment, not willing to meet your eyes. “Samantha is my only chance,” he says.

The name makes you cringe. “I know, and I’ll do it. Daniel too, I’ve already talked to him this morning.”

“Thank you,” he says softly.

“But after…” you begin, you’ve thought this through. You weren’t going to mention it, but you might as well. “When all this is over, I’m leaving.”

He looks stunned. “Leaving? Where?”

“Anywhere. Elsewhere. I hear some human colonized planets are nearly spider-free. One of those, probably.”

“Oh,” he says. “I see.” But he clearly doesn’t.

“It’s for the best,” you offer. Empty words. “Anyway…” You stand up where you are, hoping he will take this as his cue to leave.

“What did Daniel say?” he asks, ignoring your gesture. “On the phone,” he clarifies.

You sit again. “Didn’t need much convincing. He’s been really worried about you, Jack.” He nods in acknowledgement, a slight frown forming between his brows. “He’ll come here tomorrow morning to talk things through.”

“And Samantha?”

It’s the second time he’s used that name and you can’t stand it. “Don’t.”

He looks confused. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t call her that.”

“I didn’t mean to…”

“Just don’t call her that,” you insist, a little harsher.

He looks taken aback but doesn’t seem to get it. “I don’t mean anything by it. I have to call her something.”

“Not Samantha. She’s not Samantha.” Why can’t he understand?

“It’s just a name.”

“It’s _just_ a name?!” Something ignites in your stomach. “It’s just a face, too, I suppose. Except they also happen to be _mine_!”

“Sam…”

“Don’t ‘Sam’ me.”

“If you’re going to be irrational about this…”

“I’m i _rrational_!?”

“I’m only trying to…”

“Look, you can call her whatever the hell you want when you’re in bed together but not in front of me. Is that so much to ask?!”

“That’s way out of line, Carter.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m not under your command anymore, _sir_.”

“That’s not what I fucking meant, and you know it!”

“This whole thing was a bad idea…” you storm into kitchen and hear him come after you.

“Carter!”

You turn around abruptly and realize he’s standing right behind you, way closer than you would like. “I’ll do it! I said I’d do it! What the hell more do you want from me!! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT JACK?!” You hear your voice break and you hate yourself for it.

He looks into your eyes, confused, shocked, sad? “Sam,” he begins slowly, “I never wanted this for any of us…”

You need him to shut the hell up…

“…I never wanted you to have to…”

…so you take your mouth to his and press against him, hard, your eyes closed. 

_…shut up shut up shut up shut up..._

He makes a soft, choked sound into your mouth and you freeze.

Fuck.

You didn’t think this through.

You realize he hasn’t even moved, probably too shocked to push you away.

When you do, pull away, he looks stunned. “What was that?” he asks, softly.

“I don’t know,” you admit. He looks as much in pain as you feel and you wonder when the hell things got so messed up.

“Sam,” he whispers, his eyes trying to read yours, “I know I can’t take back any of what has…”

“Shut up,” you say, this time out-loud. Doesn’t he get it? You can’t listen to this right now. Not right now.

You take your hand to his neck, slowly bringing your face close to his again but stop short, not touching, just lingering there to make him understand.

This shuts him up effectively except for a slight gasp of surprise. He doesn’t move and neither do you. You stay feeling each other’s warmth, your heart beat drumming in your ear, or is that his heart beat? So close. The voice in your head whispering ‘ _This isn’t right,’_ but when has the voice in your head ever given you any good advice?

“I am so tired, Jack,” you confess, defeated.

He nods imperceptibly, his eyes dropping to your lips and whispers, “Stop me.” When you don’t, his mouth moves to find yours… and this time neither of you freezes.

This time you let yourself feel, or perhaps you have no other choice. Feel the softness and dryness of Jack’s lips against yours, softly but firmly coaxing yours open. Feel the electrifying contact of your tongues meeting for the first time. Feel the way his arms lace around you, one hand going up to your hair, bringing you impossibly closer. As if he were afraid you would leave.

As if you could.

The kiss turns more desperate and your teeth dig into his flesh. It’s not enough to draw blood but Jack presses the entire length of his body against yours in response and lets out a soft groan which vaguely sounds like, “Carter.” 

From there it’s all a blur of skin and wet. It’s mouth and teeth and tongue. It’s breathing and gasping and… Is it you making that sound? 

You’re still in the kitchen, propped over the kitchen counter, trousers discarded, panties around your ankles, his hand under your shirt and his mouth between your parted legs. It feels amazing except this is not what you need at all.

“Bed,” you pant.

“Let me do this,” he murmurs against you, you can hardly make out the words.

Your hand is in his hair but you can’t find the strength to pull him away so you insist. “Bed, now. Damn it, Jack.”

He looks up at you and you bring him to your mouth, tasting yourself on his lips.

“Bed,” you repeat.

He nods and puts your legs around his waist, your panties finally dropping to the floor. He’s still terribly overdressed for this and you get to work pulling off his shirt as he carries you both to your bedroom.

Your own shirt is still on, but you waste no time when you get to the bedroom. You need him inside you.

And you need all the other voices in your head to shut the hell up.

*

Even though the sun is still not out yet, it comes as a surprise to wake up from a deeper sleep than you’ve had since the day Daniel had pulled his emotional blackmail on you, and even as a greater surprise to realize what it is that woke you up.

Jack. In your bed.

He’s draped his arm around you possessively, but he is clearly still asleep.

The previous night comes rushing back to you. The fight. The kiss. The sound he made when he buried himself inside you for the first time, or the way his mouth latched on to the side of your neck. It’s still pleasantly sore.

This is Jack lying next to you. Jack! It is so surreal you almost want to laugh. It has been so long since you gave up on that notion. Even before the Invasion. You were about to marry someone else. Pete.

You haven’t thought of him in ages. That was all a huge mistake from start to finish. He was never Jack, never would be.

And then you lost Jack. He was dead. You saw her kill him in that single most horrifying moment of your life. Even now, even knowing how everything turned out, the memory chills you to the core. That empty certainty that nothing would ever matter anymore.  The way you cursed _her_ for having spared you.

Of course it was Daniel who convinced you his death had to mean something. Convinced you to work for the new military while secretly join the resistance. It made sense for a while, telling yourself this is what Jack would have wanted.

Except Jack wasn’t dead. All along he was…

You shake the images away. Jack is alive and tonight, he is with you. If only for tonight. For one night you both get to forget about everything else. Everyone else.

 “Mmm?” Jack groans next to you, snapping you out of your reverie. “What time?” he asks, without opening his eyes.

Your eyes wonder to the alarm clock on your bedside table which announces 4.47. “Nearly five.”

“Sleep,” he mutters, his arm tightening around you.

You chuckle, “yes, sleep.”

He opens one eye to look at you. He observes you for a while and finally he smiles. “I like it.”

You raise an eyebrow in question.

“Black hair. Like it,” he says again. “Beautiful.”

You smile back at him and bring your lips to his softly. “Thank you,” you murmur. “Sleep.”

He closes his eye nodding, “Mmmh,” which you interpret as ‘Good idea’.

You close your eyes as well and listen to his breathing even out. Careful not to rouse him, you mold your body to his, so that the whole length of his warm body is fitted to yours. At least for a little longer, you still get to pretend.

*

Morning arrives too soon.

Jack is stirring by your side but still asleep. You’re not ready to face him just yet, so you slip out of bed, trying not to wake him, and into the shower. Under the hot running water, you allow yourself to remember the events of the previous night one last time. You let your own hands wander over your own body where Jack’s had been; lingering where he lingered, sliding your finger in circles over the little mark he left on the inside of your thigh, or pinching your nipple just so, the way his teeth had. It’s not a sexual touch, not exactly, just the will to imprint each single memory on your skin, forever.

Each one both a comfort and a threat to whatever sanity you hoped to cling to when all this is over. When you leave, will these memories help or will they prove too much to bear?

Knowing yourself, you’re inclined to think the latter. But still, you give yourself a little longer under the hot stream. A little longer with your fresh memories. Which for once, are real. And they are yours.

Finally, you come out of the shower, a towel around your body and a smaller one around your hair, to find Jack has already left the room and seems to be handling pots in the kitchen. If the rattle he’s making is anything to go by.

You dress quickly and wearily join him in the kitchen, where he has found some frozen bread and a jar of honey you didn’t know you had. Probably Daniel’s.

“Morning,” he smiles at you when he sees you standing by the door. “Breakfast?”

“I feel like the roles should be reversed here,” you say, and then. “Yes, please.”

He pours you a cup of coffee he’s made with your old coffee machine, which apparently is working fine, and a plated toast. “Honey?” he asks, offering you the jar. “I couldn’t find anything else to go with the toast and the butter was off,” he says apologetically. As if this was his empty mess of a kitchen, instead of yours.

You thank him and take the jar. “I don’t usually have breakfast.”

“I gathered,” he says, a mouthful of toast and a grin.

You eat in silence. It is not exactly an uncomfortable silence, but it is not a peaceful one either. You both know soon breakfast will be over, and with it, the inevitable end of the reprieve. You help yourself to a second toast, even though you’re not hungry, just to postpone that moment. 

Eventually, he stands up to clear the table, but you stop him. “I’ll do that.”

“It’s no bother.”

You reach towards his arm to stop him, and the contact makes both of you freeze. “No,” you insist. “I said I’d do it.”

You know he wants to protest, but he nods instead and leaves the plates on the table.

Your hand is still on his arm, which you reluctantly pull away. “Would you like to take a shower? I left fresh towels in the bathroom.”

“Sure.” He disappears behind you, as you finish clearing the table.

Unlike yours, his is a remarkably short shower. Soon, he’s standing in front of you again, a soapy clean smell contrasting sharply with the wrinkles on his clothes.

“Are we going to talk about it, or do we just keep pretending like nothing happened?”

Well this was too good to last.

“Jack...” you warn.

“I’m just saying,” he continues. “I’ve gotten damned good at pretending, so no worries there. Just wondering where we stand.”

When you don’t say anything, his gaze drops to your mouth for a fraction of a second and he steps towards you. Instinctively, you step back.

“I think you should go, Jack,” you say, eyes cast down. “Daniel will be here soon.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. “Gotcha,” he says, stepping back into the bedroom to gather the remainder of his things. Soon enough, he’s out the door stopping only to give you a “See you around, Carter,” before he closes the door behind him.

When he’s out, you notice the untouched bag in your coffee table. Cake, he had said.

You’ll give it to Daniel when he arrives, you decide.

*

 


	4. Chapter 4

Safe to say, these are probably the most awkward ten minutes of your life.

The last time you saw her, you stabbed her with a kitchen knife.

The last time you saw him, well… there were no blades involved, but the wounds run much deeper.

That doesn’t stop any of you from attempting, in turn, a shot at small talk.

You try first, casually bringing up mono-polar energy particles and whether the negatively charged equivalent of Exoton particles must exist.

“No,” she says and Jack blinks at you. Twice.

“So the weather has been…” Jack says, taking his own stab at it.

But ever since the Invasion, the weather has been, and there is no other word for it, boring. Never too uncomfortably hot, never freezing cold, and it only rains at night, when it’s less inconvenient. You aren’t sure whose technology they stole to achieve this particular feat, nor how the flora and fauna manage to survive with the change or if they do, but unless one brings up the taboo issue of the Invasion, there is just absolutely nothing to say about the weather these days.

“…consistent,” he finishes lamely. Both you and her nod.

“Sam, Jack tells me you…” she begins, after a while. But you instinctively glare at her for the familiarity so she never finishes the sentence.

Finally, after ten long agonizing minutes, Daniel arrives apologizing.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, giving each of you a kiss on the cheek, completely disregarding the strict no-touch rule that had been established between the three of you. “It was madness getting here; some mall just opened near my house. It was crazy the amount of people trying to get in, you’d think they’ve never seen a shopping mall.”

“Oh yes,” she says and doesn’t elaborate, but you have the distinct feeling that it’s not just any shopping mall that just opened. “Well, now that we are all here…”

“Finally,” quips Jack, with exaggerated relief.

 “…how about we get started.” Despite having gathered in your house for the meeting, she is calling the shots tonight, so she leads the way to the round table which is already full of papers. You all follow her and sit around the table. “I’ve made a dossier for each of you…”

“Cool,” Jack says, interrupting for the second time. She looks at him questioningly and he shrugs with a small, “I like dossiers.” You can’t help but smirk.

“They explain everything I’ve been able to find out thanks to Daniel’s help.” Daniel looks down, abashedly. As if allowing someone to ransack your mind can’t exactly be called ‘help’. “The device is in a temple on a planet called Dakara. The planet is currently controlled by replicators, so there shouldn’t be any problems there.”

“Surprise, surprise.” It’s out of your mouth before you can stop it. Daniel shoots a worried look in your direction, but she continues as if she hadn’t heard you. “I’ve also drawn very thorough schematics of the device with instructions on how it operates and how to reach it. I expect you’ll want to go over the science.” As she says this, she hands you a stack of papers which at first glance appear to be an extremely detailed description of the device, with abundant diagrams and explanations. You realize she has written this solely for your benefit. You nod in acceptance and she nods back.

“Now, as you will see in your dossiers,” she says giving the other two a smaller stack of papers which Jack receives with an exaggerated beam, “this is what all of you need to know…”

As she goes over the details of her plan, you notice Jack getting increasingly tense. Nothing obvious, certainly not to someone who doesn’t know him as well as you do, but telling enough in the details. The way he swallows harder at the mention of the gate, or how he hasn’t made a single clever remark since it’s become clear he has to travel to Dakara.

She must notice it too, because at one point, she casually lays her hand on his and looks him in the eye to reassure him, “It’ll be ok. Just one last trip. I promise.”

You flinch at the intimacy of her gesture, but quickly school your features when you notice Daniel’s fixed stare on you. He’s been observing you all night, as if he’s afraid you will do something stupid, or collapse right there and then like a broken china doll. You haven’t, you won’t. You meet his gaze head-on, forcing him to look away first. You’ve had enough coddling from Daniel, you’re too old for a babysitter.

In the meantime, Jack too seems to have collected himself, and her hand isn’t on his anymore, but on the papers in front of them. The question remains, however: Why is Jack so nervous about crossing the Stargate?

It is a remarkably complete briefing, and you appreciate it for its thoroughness, but you’re also glad when it finally comes to an end. There is only so much forced civility you can offer.

She is first to leave, once it is clear the meeting has come to an end. She gathers her things in record time and is out the door, with a simple goodbye towards Jack and Daniel and an offer your way to clarify any doubts you might have. You thank her curtly. Jack lingers while Daniel gives you one last goodbye kiss on the cheek and follows her out the door, not with one last apprehensive look back in your direction, knowing that he’s leaving Jack and you alone.

When the door is closed, Jack looks at you as if he doesn’t know quite what to say. “It was good to see you,” he finally says.

“Yes,” you say because you don’t really know what to say, either. You take a hesitant step towards him as he does the same towards you, and before you lose your courage you bring your lips to his cheek.

You intended this as a gesture to normalize the situation, after all you had kissed Daniel but a minute earlier, yet the plan completely backfires when you find yourself in such close proximity to him. As if on purpose, all your senses seem to have turned against you. You can feel his warmth, you can hear his breath so close to your ear, and most of all his smell which makes you slightly lightheaded, it makes you want to bury your nose into his neck and stay hidden there forever…

 You pull away quickly, horrified with yourself. You know you are blushing and don’t dare to look up, in case he is able to read your thoughts in your eyes.

“It was good seeing you too,” you offer instead.

“I’ll see you next week,” he says and you nod opening the door for him.

“Take care, Jack.” Briefly, you make eye contact with him just once, to make sure he knows you mean it.

“I will. You too, Carter.”

*

You tap impatiently on the device’s screen, waiting for the right result to show, while Daniel sputters gibberish from the other side of the line.

“I told you, I can’t see any of that yet,” you say frustrated into the receiver.

“Well, what _do_ you see?” he asks equally exasperated, as if you haven’t already told him 300 hundred times you can’t see ANYTHING other than some symbols he’s already translated into ‘process’ which apparently means ‘processing’, in other words, ‘wait’, and it had been like that for over an hour.

“Daniel, the symbols haven’t changed. I don’t understand why this is so important. She told us everything we need to do and I’ve tripled check the science. It all makes sense.”

“I know you have, Sam, but I’d be more at ease if we have the automatic translator working.”

You get his point and share his concern with the mission, which is why you’ve been up all night triple-checking every single detail. You and Daniel will have to keep your eyes open, the more you can control the better, but this device? “I don’t understand why you put so much faith on a spider-made device. You are a thousand times better than this will ever be.”

“Just bring it with you, ok? We can’t be too careful. And call me again if the screen changes!”

You sigh into the receiver. “I will, Daniel. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

“See you.”

You’ve barely had time to hang up the phone, when an unfortunately all too familiar shadow catches the corner of your eye and the next thing you know, a blunt object meets the back of your head.

It comes as no surprise, then, to wake up hands tied behind your back to the footboard of your own bed and a face you tried hard to avoid, smirking down at you.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you sight. “I’m having a strange sense of déjà vu.”

“You will miss me, I’m sure,” she says still smiling.

“Miss you? Are you leaving?”

“ _You_ clearly are,” she answers signaling the bags you’ve already packed. You planned to leave to the spider-free planet of Nunka as soon as you were sure this had worked and Jack was safe. The sooner the better.

“So,” you ignore her. “What now?”

She studies you for a moment and you wonder what she’s doing, until you notice the tone of her hair is getting darker. And longer. In fact, her hair is getting to be the exact same length and shade as your current hairdo.

“What are you…”

“Isn’t it obvious?” The grey outfit she is wearing also morphs into what looks exactly like the jeans and shirt that you’re wearing.

“They’re never going to fall for this,” you say trying to stay calm. “They’ll know you’re not me.” At least you hope they will.

“Are you sure?” You’re anything but sure, but you need to believe it. You need to believe that you two are nothing alike.

“Yes.”

“So confident.” She’s still looking at you as if she had never seen you before. “I never meant to hurt you, I hope you know that. This was never personal. I only did what I saw as my only choice.”

“Is that what you’re doing now?”

“Something like that, yes.”

Suddenly, it all makes sense. “This is why you needed me in the first place, isn’t? You had planned all along to take my place. You needed Daniel and Jack to take you to the device, without knowing it was you.”

“Correct again.”

A feeling of dread sets in your stomach. “You’re going to immunize all the spiders.”

“Always thinking the worse of me. Is that what you would do in my place?”

“Of course not!”

“Then probably, neither will I.”

“Probably?”

She shrugs. “I can promise you something. You’ll never see me again.” She leans forward and kisses you on the cheek, you jerk away. “Don’t waste it.”

“Waste what?”

“You. Your life.”

Before you can tell her to mind her own business and that if your life is a mess, it is nothing but her fault, she’s out of the door.

It takes you a couple of blinks before you realize you need to get word to Daniel before she gets to them. Whatever you told her, you’re pretty sure they aren’t going to know she isn’t you, at least not until it’s already too late.

But how?

*

You glance back at your tied hands to assess your progress. Judging by all the blood and the deep purple bruises starting to form around your wrists you have probably been at this for a few hours, with despairingly little success. It is then that you hear someone opening the front door to your house.

It doesn’t take long to find out who it is.

“Jack! Thank God you’re Ok…”

“Carter! Are you hurt?” he asks as soon as he sees you, bending immediately to help.

“She wasn’t me. I didn’t know how to warn you. She wasn’t me!” you say frantically.

“I know.”

“You knew?” A wave of relief washes over you. “You could tell?”

“No,” he admits quietly.

The relief is short lived. “Oh.” You don’t know whether you’re more disappointed that he couldn’t tell the two of you apart or that she got away with her plan.

“There wasn’t time. She came in with Daniel. She’d been listening in on your conversation and knew all about the translatory thingy. Daniel was all over what he thought was your latest discovery. And I was…” he looks down, his voice thinning.

“You were?”

“Well, let’s just say I was not exactly all rainbows and sunshine about crossing the gate… It’s a long story.”

“Oh.”

“I did realize, once we got to Dakara, but by that time, she already had what she wanted.”

“So this is it? They are all immune?” you ask defeated.

“Immune? No,” he looks surprised, as if that was a preposterous idea. “She’s gone.”

“Gone? Gone where?” None of this makes any sense.

“She didn’t tell you?” he asks, surprised.

“Tell me what?”

“What her plan was.”

“No.” Now it’s your turn to look surprised. “Why in heaven’s name would she tell me her plan?”

“Oh, well… I figured, since she came to see you…” He steals a glance at your mangled wrists, which he has managed to untie and now lay cradled protectively over your lap. “I suppose you never did get along much.”

“You certainly win at understatements.”

“Thank you,” he smiles as if it were a compliment.

You roll your eyes. “Are you going to tell me what she did?” You’re starting to get impatient. You’re still not even sure if the Universe has been doomed or not.

“I should start from the beginning,” he says. “But first, let’s get you something for these.”

You are internally screaming for him to get to the fucking point, but for some reason, you follow him quietly into the bathroom where he retrieves a never used bottle of rubbing alcohol and some gauze. Were they also Daniel’s or just something you had from Before? He sits on the toilet seat and gestures for you to sit on the rim of the bathtub, which you do, still without protest.

Slowly, and with great care, he starts cleaning your wounds. If it wasn’t because your head is reeling, this would almost feel nice.

“She cured me, it worked,” he says finally.

“What? You’re ok?”

“Peachy.”

You let a deep breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “Jack, that’s amazing…” First good news all day, all year really. Fucking excellent news, except… “How? If she was also…”

“She’s dead. That’s what she wanted all along. This time for real. Except she couldn’t come to us with the same story twice and expect us to believe her.”

“She’s dead?” You’ve heard the words loud and clear, but it just doesn’t seem possible.

“Caput. Gone. Finito.” He speaks through clenched teeth without meeting your eyes. “She also set the device to auto-destroy once I was safe.”

It couldn’t all be good news. “Of course she did. Making sure we can’t kill her precious spiders.”

Jack flinches. You can see that he’s hurting but you’ll be damned if you’re going to feel any regret for the loss of a machine hell-bent on ruling the universe.

“No, not exactly. Before she… went… she transferred the knowledge of the Disrupter into my brain. Let me tell you, that was _not_ an experience I missed. But now the Asgard can do their little hocus pocus and produce new Disrupters the replicators won’t be able to adapt to. ‘Leveling the field’ she said. The device on Dakara was too powerful and too dangerous.”

“So what you’re saying is: we can fight the replicators now.” You know that’s not what he’s saying at all. Listening to Jack’s words you start to realize, to your horror, that she did exactly what you would have done in her place.

“If that’ll make you feel any better...” he says shrugging.

“No,” you admit.

“We can co-exist, now," he says softly. "So long as neither side is invincible, the scales can be balanced again. Fair game and all that... I know you don’t like it, but Earth ain’t gonna give up its little replicator toys any time soon.”

No matter how much you hate it, you know this to be true. Earth is dealing surprisingly well with the Invasion, even with the field downright unleveled.

“So… Samantha…” saying the name feels as if trying to speak through a mouthful of ashes, “is dead?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry,” you offer.

The gauze over your skin stops moving then, and you realize belatedly, that despite the fact that your wrists had been clean for a while, he hadn’t stopped the soft caresses. He looks up at you, his eyes tired. “We should bandage these.”

You nod quietly and hold your wrists up so he can cover them with clean gauze and some tape. You mourn the loss of the touch when he’s finished with the bandages all too soon.

“Did you love her?” It’s out before you can think better of it.

“Carter…” he is begging you not to do this, but now that it’s out, you have to know.

“It’s an easy enough question,” you insist. “She loved you.”

He looks up at you. “Did she?”

The question throws you off. “You know she did,” you say, but you have a feeling that’s not what he’s asking.

“She died because she wasn’t you,” he says.

“What?”

“There could only ever be one of you and she knew. She may have tried to be someone else for a while, but in the end, she was someone who already was.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means no, I didn’t love her. I loved someone else and she knew.”

Something big and nasty seems to have lodged in your throat. Resolutely, you swallow it down.

“She did the right thing, in the end.” You’re not quite ready to admit you misjudged her, but you hope he’ll take this acknowledgement for what it is: a peace offering, an apology of sorts.

“Yes, I guess she did.” He stands up, eyes pinned to the floor. “Carter…”

He keeps using your surname. You used to like it, it felt strangely intimate despite the formality, but now, after that night, it just feels like an acknowledgement of what is not.

“I saw the bags, in your room…” he continues. “Are you still…?”

“I have to,” you admit. “None of this changes anything.”

“No. Of course.”

Or does it? You ask silently.

You will him to stop you, to say the words. But he only looks at you, his eyes red and tired, his lips tight. If only… You have no right to ask that of him, not after everything that’s happened.

“I should probably finish packing,” you say, even though you already have everything packed. He nods. His arm reaches towards you but doesn’t quite touch you. You linger there close to his hand for a second, craving the touch that you know won’t come, and then finally, step back and out of the bathroom.

“Sam,” he whispers from behind you before you’ve even reached the bedroom door. You aren’t sure if he’s actually said anything until he continues. “I still love that someone else. I love her, always have, always will.”

The knot in your throat gets impossibly tighter and your eyes finally betray you, spilling over. You want to believe him, God you want to…

Your back still turned to him, he speaks again, a little louder. “I love you, Sam.”

You feel the air rush violently from your lungs. You would have killed to hear these words Before. “I can’t,” your voice is hardly audible.

“I just needed you to know. I’m not asking you for anything. I know I’ve screwed royally more times than I can count. But I…” he stops, suddenly going quiet.

You turn around and see his cheeks as wet as yours feel. It pierces your heart.

“Please,” he says before you step into his arms, which quickly lace around you in a strong embrace.

As soon as you’re in his arms it seems like your chest explodes and everything you had been holding back comes out in harsh strangled sobs. “I can’t stay,” you say between sobs, when you can finally speak a little.  He nods and holds you tight. So impossibly tight that the words come out of your mouth even though you had promised yourself you wouldn’t ask this of him, “Come with me.”

He pulls away then, to look you in the eye. “What?”

“I don’t know what happened that makes you so afraid of crossing the Gate, Jack, and I know I can’t ask you to…”

“Stop.”

Your breathing still ragged, it’s your turn to ask, “What?”

“What are you asking?”

“I know I don’t have the right to…”

“No, Carter, _what_ are you asking?” You look into his eyes, completely at a loss for an answer.  “I need you to be sure, Carter, if you’re asking what I think you’re asking. I need you to be fucking sure.”

“Oh,” you say, understanding.

“Nothing has changed…” he says.

“I know.”

“What happened is still there…”

“I know.”

“I don’t think you do, because I think you’re asking me to come with you.”

“Yes.”

“A week ago you didn’t want anything to do with me…”

“I’ve never not wanted anything to do with you, Jack.”

“But?”

“There is no but, Jack, damn it, you just told me you loved me a moment ago.”

“Yes!”

“And I’m asking you to come because…”

“Yes?”

 _Because I love you, too,_ your brain supplies, but you find yourself unable to speak the words. “I can’t stay here, the replicators…”

“I know.”

“But you… and I…” You touch his chest with your hand, and then bring the same hand to yours, as if this explains everything. “You know?” you ask, looking at him imploringly, your wet eyes filling with fresh tears. “You know?” He nods. “I know the Gate…” you start again.

“Forget about the Gate.”

“But you and I…” you repeat, willing him to understand.

“You and I,” he echoes. 

“It won’t be easy…”

“Never signed up for easy.”

You stop for a moment and look up at him. Really look at him. “Will you come, Jack?”

“There isn’t anything I’ve wanted more, Carter. Ever.”

“Carter?” you smile.

“Sam,” he amends, grinning.

“Even if… I _…_  won’t be easy.”

“Well,” he says, taking your hands in his, “There is no such thing as easy. I think all any of us can really hope for is to do our best and try to merrily get by.”

“You know that’s surprisingly insightful,” you laugh, which comes out more as a strangled sob than a laugh.

“You mean for an idiot like me?”

You nod, serious again. “Kiss me, Jack.”

His expression changes, matching yours. “Don’t mind if I do…” Even as he says this, he still doesn’t move. You stare at each other for what seems like an eternity, your hands still in his, before he finally, finally!, brings his lips to yours, for one, short, electrifying kiss that sends a shiver up your spine.

And for the first time, the kiss doesn’t taste like desperate longing but of promise. Of future.

You kiss him again, this time a longer, fuller, thorough kiss that leaves both of you breathless and your knees a bit shaky.

You part long enough to breathe and look him in the eye, his smile contagious, and reach again for another kiss.

And another.

And another… Until you can’t tell the two of you apart and it’s all skin against skin.

“So…“ you begin after a long silence, sated in bed, and a goofy grin on both your faces. “Who breaks this to Daniel?”

There is a moment before Jack answers, “Reckon we should just take him along?”

“I don’t think we’ll have a choice.”

*

 

 


End file.
